


The Toxicity

by Robert_Drake



Category: 13 Reasons Why (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Legal Drama, M/M, Negotiations, Relationship Discussions, Slow Burn, moderately slow though, you can call it a
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2020-10-19 02:35:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20649794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robert_Drake/pseuds/Robert_Drake
Summary: Winston was informed about Monty’s arrest and felony immediately.





	1. The Sacrifice

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work on English, so constructive criticism is very welcome.

It was already 7 PM as Winston came home after another photography practice. This time he was shooting a sports event, artistic gymnastics competition to be specific. That was pretty exhausting, but athletes were gorgeous and the shots were _good_. He will process them this weekend, yet another weekday lies ahead, so he needed to take a shower, for starters. While cleaning himself the boy tackled the thoughts about Monty persisting lately but failed miserably. That was getting out of hand, shit. Does he really like the Latino so much? For what exactly?

After the routine, the first thing for him to do was picking up his phone from the bed. And indeed, 23 minutes ago Monty has texted him. But not what he wished for, not at all.

Panic and despair flushed his mind and paralyzed his body while he was staring at the abrupt and hasty messages. Shit, his boyf… his beloved homophobe is a rapist. He violated Tyler. Poor boy. When? Why? How could he?

He tried to call to be sure that it isn’t some douchebag joke, but it was no use. Such writing and joking were out of Monty’s character, not after his opening to Winston, not after Winston saw his soft side. And his overreaction to Tyler coming forward makes sense now. But all this meant he was actually arrested.

God, this is what it always was – his plans being crushed by life. Winston just stopped floating aimlessly for once in his life. He fucking started to sketch some kind of a plan of helping his lover to sort himself out and slaughter one's inner demons. That would be challenging, but now, everything was so fucked up. The boy just spent an hour or so on frustration and self-pity lying on the bed.

But after that, when he was reflecting on the roots of the Latino’s aggression, a memory surfaced. Monty mentioned his abusive dad, who apparently caused all this mess in his son’s head, including internalized homophobia. Shit, Monty’s father wouldn’t care even a little, when he will find out about the substance of the charges. His baby will rot in a cell, lonely, until-- until he won’t be killed by other inmates.

_‘Mom once said that those sentenced for rape often do not live long there, much less those who raped their own sex. Knowing him, he will fight, not flee, which makes the probability even higher. Otherwise, he’s likely to become just another recidivist born by this ‘justice’ system.’_

Then his ears caught a muted but still familiar sound of the car parking down there. He frowns at the wall as another thought process kicks in.

_‘Can I do that? That would be quite a sacrifice, that’s for sure. And for what? For a chance of fixing Monty? This situation emanates toxicity as fuck. But then-- I’ll just leave him to suffer all alone?’_ torn by thoughts and the moral choice he rolled on another side. The boy was glaring at the door like it was somehow guilty of his current state.

Winston can hear his parents serving the table with some takeout as usual and calling him. After a while, his phone rang receiving a text from dad. ‘Why do not join us?’ its content was.

“No, I won’t leave him. Not like that. Not without a fight,” he whispered to himself and rose heavily.

After googling a few things, he came down as his not-so-caring parents yet to finish their food, but their eyes were sharp enough to notice the resolve in the son’s look.

“Mom, Dad, I’d like to talk.” He sat at the head of the table, just to be sure he won’t tower over them creating unnecessary tension.

“Of course, my boy, what’s the matter?” silverware have been set aside immediately and they were looking at him attentively. 

“My friend, Montgomery, got arrested. Charged with rape.” He doesn't stumble or falter in his speech, he knows they like it professional. “I ask you to defend him”.

Now his parents are exchanging_ that_ look. They smelled blood in the water.

“Son, has he no parents or guardians who could hire another-” his mother tries to dismiss, and he sighs. 

“Practically, _no_, mom. His father was abusing him all the time, that’s why Monty is so messed up!” He started losing control because he knew what they were doing. They were refusing with the purpose of inflating the price, but he didn't want to give in either. Maybe something compassionate or even parental remains there. “Even if his father had money to hire a decent lawyer, he still wouldn’t give_ a fuck_ about that!”

“Language, _boy_! You speak to your mother!” The son has been called out by father.

While they both haven’t shown true concern about him lately, dad really cared about mom and was protective of her, Winston will give the older man that.

“Sorry. I’m just worried about him.”

“It’s okay, _we_ understand that,” she gave the spouse a reproving glance for overreaction. “We understand that you, apparently, hold him dear. But still, you know how hard it is for us to find free time, we are quite busy.”

“I know you can do it. You ain’t working solo, but at the biggest law firm in California! Sure, you can ask to redistribute the workload a bit!”

“We can be fired for that,” once again his mother tried to counter.

“Bullshit. You are partners, not associates. You’re two of the most high-paid attorneys in the state!”

The spouses simply haven’t spoken. Their shared expression was clearly indicating they wanted something in exchange. Not like his parents are so greedy, not pathologically at least. He just gave them the long-awaited leverage.

“Okay, be it your way then. I will give up on applying for Arts and being a photographer. I will do a ‘useful’ job, as you say it.” They tried to stay poker face, but satisfaction was evident. “I will be a lawyer”.

“Why lawyer?” dad started the inquiry.

“Finance and coding just trigger me, make me vomit. Business-- I’m not so into networking and stuff. Med is rough and long.”

“Not so much longer than law.”

“Which _does not_ abolish the first drawback,” he replied dryly.

He may be only a teenager, but he learned how to deal with his parents. They are predators to the core and sometimes can be ruthless even with their own kid, which hopefully will benefit Monty.

“And what major will you take anyway? As undergraduate. Law school-” Mom took up the mantle.

“Is graduate-entry, YES, everyone knows that! Why you ask?” he suspected why but had no single wish to use the ace up his sleeve. The ace that will harm no one but him.

“We need some more leverage to ensure that you do not break the deal after our part is done,” she clarified eyeing the kid assessingly.

“You’d just cut me off.”

“Which we would do without any deal, should you disregard our will”

“_That_ way you’d feel guilty and maybe even pardon me afterward,” the spouses gave him a challenging look, but it was decided to minimize the fuss.

“Perhaps-- Nonetheless, our point still stands. We. Require. Leverage.” The son glared at his parents like they were robbing him of something precious as the father hammered. And honestly, they were. Photography is the thing for him, but it’s obvious now that it will be no more than a hobby.

“That’s why Lena visits you only once a year.” It may seem a last-ditch effort, but he was aware of its futility. Winston wanted, at least, to poison their self-satisfaction with the mention of his grown sister. And judging by clenched jaws and slightest frowns he succeeded at that task. “Okay. I’ll go for Bachelor of Laws in England-- or Australia- or New Zealand and get J.D. here after that.”

Now they were clearly appeased and he was rolling eyes at this. His plan was to go for Philosophy or goddamn Communications and work as a photographer at the same time, so he can dump the parents earning enough money for a living. And Winston didn’t care much for inheriting _a_ real estate or, for that matter, taking over the trust fund at the age of 25. But _now_ he needed to help Monty, otherwise, it would haunt him for years to come.

“Let’s get to your part. Can you get him out?” the point of most importance for him was brought up.

“We don’t know all the details, so we cannot say anything with _any_ degree of certainty,” mom once again took the lead.

“I suppose this isn’t enough?” the boy handed his texting with Monty over.

The parents looked at the desperate wording. Dad even seemed to be touched a little, despite all his professional composure. _‘How lovely’_.

“No.”

“Em, can’t you bribe DA?”

“No,” she hasn’t flinched the slightest at his suggestion.

“Why?”

“The news of your lover’s crime spread by the local radio.” That must be bad. “Which means DA won’t be willing to risk.”

“Can you get him _no more_ than three years?” It was long but was the minimum set in the Penal Code. 

“It depends. The abuse by father can be a mitigating factor as well as his young age, but there can be aggravating factors we don’t know of.” The uncertainty made Winston to huff.

“So, you will introduce yourself with the case, tell me what you can do and then we can strike _our_ deal?”

“Sounds fair. If you refuse, I won’t defend him.”

“Okay,” but deep inside he already realized that he will agree _anyway_. “So, _you_ will do the job?” he looked directly at his mother.

“Your father is more about _fancy _crimes, like those that involve banking, securities, taxes, cyber and so forth,” dad rolled his eyes.

“And you’re…?”

“More about _classics_: rape, drugs, murder, fraud.”

“Mm, lovely,” he remarked.

“Womanish things to do,” his thoughts are spoken out by mom.

“So, you go now?”

“Tomorrow, around 2 pm.”

“What- Why so late?!”

“I have a trial that cannot be delayed neither reassigned with another _‘decent’_ lawyer,” she cited while speaking in her cold manner and he really wanted to swear at them and storm out. Or maybe just cry because of his incapability to do _something_.

This time it was dad who gave a look somewhat reproving the spouse’s behavior. She sighed.

“Don’t worry, son, he won’t be hurt, not during the first night. It’s the following nights that are dangerous. I promise,” she tried to make amends, apparently, and rubbed his tensed shoulder. Quite unexpected of her, but still- “I will try to arrange a visit tomorrow, so you can talk with Montgomery,” and _that_ really calmed him down.

“Okay. That would be great.”

“If you want, we can discuss your relationship with him and everything that it entails,” dad proposed as he saw turmoil in the son.

His father was always a little more caring than mother, even in his childhood. But Winston would be better off. He didn’t believe they could help in that matter. They became too distant and too deformed. He once proposed family counseling but they dismissed it. They preferred work over him. As he sees it, they became their occupations.

“No, thanks, I’d rather take the sessions after the shitstorm is resolved.” He rose and headed to his room.

“Winston, I forgot to mention. If the cops are smart and motivated enough, they have retrieved those texts already. It may be needed from you to marry him in order to avoid testifying against. I will try to make a good plea bargain, but if it fails-,” mom brought up an issue, but he was quick to respond.

“I will do what needs to be done for his sake.” And he left the dining room trying, at the same time, to strangle the thoughts about a gay wedding ceremony in jail. Surely, that would be a new one for this damnable town.

“Our son is determined, I'll give him that-- Thank God we haven’t transferred the property rights to him, otherwise, he would have sold the car to bribe DA on his own,” she expressed her relief.

“We are terrible parents, aren’t we?” dad sighed.

“Maybe-- but he is almost a grown man.”

“Which _does not_ change the fact of our bad parenting.”

She hasn’t responded.


	2. The Reality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your kudos and comments! Due to the lack of workload these days, I have managed to craft a new chapter earlier than anticipated. But the next one is definitely gonna be out only on the next weekends, i.e. 28-29th September.

The Arts teacher was a little confused by Winston’s total disengagement, which has not occurred until now. And the student really cared not about that. Inevitably, the school has been being sidelined for today since Winston’s thoughts were swarming restlessly over the situation with Monty.

_‘Maybe it is a joke, after all?’_

That would be cruel-- but preferable. However, his contacts in Liberty High just said that de la Cruz didn’t show up today. And it was already 3 PM, which was very disturbing.

He pondered possible outcomes. Not much about legal ones, he had no qualifications for that. The only thing that he knew regarding them was that his lover is likely to face 3 years of imprisonment, if not more. And what then? Winston wants to declare he would call _every day_ and visit _whenever_ permitted. But can he do this for real? And what kind of person Monty will be after the release? Wouldn’t prison rend his psyche further?

The prospect of meeting him today isn’t helping to calm either. What would Winston say to him, face-to-face? Should he condemn Monty’s actions? To what degree?

His one part, that suffered, wanted to loathe his bedfellow. Two other pieces of him – the rational and moral one – stood for their unexpected compromise: to strike the deal with his parents so they will protect Monty at their best, _but_ to get over him, not to be involved with him emotionally _ever at all_. The most ruthless one was hideously whispering to abandon him completely. That’s what most of the therapists would have advised, in California at least. Nevertheless, the last part was resounding the most. And it was calling for love, protectiveness, loyalty.

Shit, Monty hasn’t even addressed him as his boyfriend, let alone expressing devotion.

_‘And here I stand, inclining to be with him until the end,’ _he chuckled to himself feeling bitter irony squeezing his throat.

The phone vibrated in his pocket stating a text receival. His heart raced because the text was from mom. Fuck, Monty was indeed arrested. Well, at least he was alive and “ok”. What? She needs him to be home right now? And she also managed to arrange the visit today. Like, in 2 hours.

_‘Fuck, fuck, FUCK!’_

What he should do? What he has to say to him? How will he look in his eyes?

_‘Crap, I’m not ready!-- But- Am I coward now?’_

_‘You always were,’ _

_‘-- Maybe- but not today,’_ he has responded to himself.

Then another message from his mother followed. It says she has excused his leave before the principal. And he made quick exit gabbling sorries to the teacher. He decided to face reality, not run from it.

***** 

**A little earlier that day. County jail. **

He was so pissed off and felt so desperate at the same time. While their meeting was really disheartening for him, he felt anger rather than shock towards his so-called-father. That kind of attitude was expected-- but still, _spitting_?!

Anyway, Monty got over that. Sure, he did. Now he was regretting only wasting his right to make a phone call: wished he could talk to Winston instead. Not to ask for help. He was beneath his compassion, much less the actual help. Just wanted to say how sorry he is. Or maybe he wanted _just _to talk to _someone_ he finds decent. One last time.

Shit, his eyes were swelling with tears again.

_‘Stop. Stop pitying yourself.’_

He held them back, just not to show weakness to other inmates. But acid of distress persisted up his throat. Just-- fuck- why he is even suspected of murdering Bryce? What kind of evidence suggests that? But no one here seems to be concerned with that. Neither will be a public defender. 

“De la Cruz!” The cell door opened with metal screech.

“What?” he looked at the guard as his body tensed uncontrollably.

“Your defender came, rapo.”

“Already? Why- why so fast?”

Besides being already tightened, he was now pressing himself, by reflex, against the wall. They said he would wait for _days_ to meet one, and only after the arraignment hearing. That wasn’t a good sign. Are they going to beat him _again_? Torture him?

“Hey, don’t be a pussy! You got a bit lucky – your case has been chosen as pro bono.”

“Wh-what?”

“Augh. It means your case, dummy, will be led by a private attorney.”

“But who could-“ the confusion is diluting the dread in his tone more and more.

“Many private attorneys _have to_ do some pro bono cases! And one of them deemed your case interesting enough to take it- or felt pity for you. Anyway, listen, you can go to talk with him _now_ or wait for a public defender,” the officer was clearly running out of patience and Monty was still afraid. But the glimmer of hope was alluring enough for him to break free from the fear paralysis. Anyway, he was doomed to rot here, _maybe_ he will get the murder off himself, at least. If not, he would rather take his own life. 

He was escorted to the meeting room. A blond, middle-aged woman sat at the table, not what he was expecting, but he’s not complaining, not about the gender. His cuffs were chained to the table and the policeman left. All this time the woman was eyeing Monty assessingly. He was looking at her too, and, while he still felt unease, her presence was somewhat calming. Like something familiar was in her.

“Hi, I’m Diana Williams,” she smiled, at last.

_‘Could she possibly-?’_

“Montgomery de la Cruz.” After the handshake, she gave him the business card with her photo, phone number, firm’s name and state bar number.

“If you agree, I will defend you before the law enforcement and in the court.”

“Why you chose me as your--?” to his shame Monty hasn’t remembered the word.

“Pro bono case? Well, I’ve just decided to. _At some point_ I must do my portion of it,” she lied. He shouldn’t know, not right now.

“Okay then.”

Her surname and physical appearance gave birth to some of the oddest thoughts. Like _maybe_ she can be related to Winston? But that was weird, and Ms. Williams just disproved his wild theory, so he started signing papers to proceed to the business. After that, the attorney took them and left. Even though he looked carefully at the papers not to plead guilty by mistake or negligence, still, the suspicion of a trap wasn’t receding.

She returned after good 15 minutes with a not-so-full folder.

“Sorry, you know, bureaucracy and all,” Diana smiled cheeringly. Despite her intention, it has poked the hive of paranoic thoughts once more.

_‘Isn’t that a good cop tactic? Undercover.’ _

A voice in his mind responded that such a move would be too blatant. But another reminded Monty that he was just a low-income Latino with no one out there to stand for him. And he didn’t know which one was telling the truth.

“Sure,” his smile lacked a genuine effort by all standards, which also was observed by Ms. Williams.

She broke the eye contact and started going through the files. It took only about 3-4 minutes for her to finish.

“So, you’re charged with rape and murder. Do you know the victims?”

“--.”

Shit, the boy was distrustful as hell and on the verge of a panic attack. That was enough for her to assume some dirt in this case, let alone the signs of pain readable in his walking, probably caused by police brutality.

“Monty, don’t be afraid, it’s not some kind of trick to make you incriminate yourself. Our communication is protected by attorney-client privilege and _I_ _am not_ a disguised detective or agent. That would be intolerable and recognized as inadmissible in any court,” the lawyer reassures him. Diana can see his breathing steading and the muscular tension waning, so she continued. 

“But we’re not _fools_ enough to blindly believe that our talk cannot be eavesdropped, aren’t we?” she winked, and Monty returned a tentative smile. The line about the surveillance was only _half_-joking. Even though she was quite familiar with the warden – kindergarten unites, who could guess – but not so much to have blind faith in the man. “I suspect not everything is clean in this case. So now I will ask some essential questions and you will answer them truthfully. Without that I cannot even _draft a plan_ of achieving the best possible outcome _for you_. Okay?”

_“You weren’t so caring with Winston. Not for the last 4 years.” _

Shit, the increasing frequency of her conscience – or was it a resurging maternal response? – waking up is worrisome, but that’s the question for another time.

The client nodded, and they proceeded.

***** 

While driving Winston speculated why would mom ask him to go home, not to the jail. But he concluded it might be for the sake of confidentiality. His mother was awaiting him in the living room.

“Hi.”

“Looking lost, son.” she said matter-of-factly and in a somewhat teasing tone at the same time.

“Well, maybe you will help me see things more clearly?” Winston responded rolling his eyes.

“Maybe. But first, you need to clarify something _for me_.” He wasn’t expecting that one.

“Okay.”

“He was accused of Bryce’s murder too,” that was startling, to say the least. “But he says he has an alibi in you. Have you been with him here when Bryce was killed?” She showed him a police crime report with a photo of the dead man – which was a disturbing image – and then his eyes followed her finger pointing to the estimated date and time of death.

“H-he was,” the boy’s cheeks went slightly red with his memories not ceasing to surface.

“More interesting question is, can you prove it?” He frowned trying to digest all the incoming information and output some.

“Em-- I think yeah. We took photos.” Winston went through his iClouded photos and showed one of them to mom.

_‘They look good together, though. Sadly it-.’_

“And I also took some on camera,” he added.

“Great, all this will be needed later as well as the security cameras footage. I cannot wait to see the deputy’s face when I will present all of it. The face when he realizes it’s the _shittiest_ charge he filed _ever_,” the mischief flourished on her face.

“Okay. And what about- the second charge?” He looked at her biting his lip.

“Well, he’s actually done this.” She sighed and gave him another police crime report with Tyler’s interview.

She watched as the bewilderment, shock, disgust, and anger succeeded one another within him, causing the boy’s eyes to widen, nostrils to flare, jaws to clench and his whole upper body to contract due to nausea. The usage of a mop in _such_ purposes was hardly digestible for the teenager.

“If you want to refuse, it’s okay. It’s okay to avoid talking with a rapist. I will get the charge of murder dropped quickly. I will do that part without the deal,” after her the silence reigned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your kudos and comments! Due to the lack of workload these days, I have managed to craft a new chapter earlier than anticipated. But the next one is definitely gonna be out only on the next weekends, i.e. 28-29th September.


	3. Action speaks louder than prayer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The arraignment hearing happens and some of the mom's plotting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I come back and there are too few new works on this ship. Don't worry, I will go down with this ship.  
Sorry for being late, the workload and my mental condition weren't favoring the timely delivery. I wouldn't anticipate the next chap within coming 2-3 weeks.  
This is my first work on English, so constructive criticism is very welcome. Kudos and comments are really appreciated as they can keep me writing on weekends.

The rising sun lit the courtroom generously playing with shadows of the furniture and making the bleak, all-white Great Seal of The State of California understandable at last. At one table in front of the bench, an attorney sat by herself going through papers. Beside the second table, another female lawyer was talking low with a man in orange while both standing up.

“The judge enters, and the arraignment hearing begins. Do as I said earlier: do not plead guilty to any of the charges. If _you _are asked a question, take two seconds to think or get my counsel. I will handle the rest,” Diana instructed trying to cheer him with a smile and by rubbing his shoulder.

“Okay,” Montgomery nodded, and they sat.

Despite his calm façade, the whole situation had him anxious. First, there were local news reporters in the gallery. Ms. Williams said it was expected and advised not to look at them much, as well as ‘not to show nothing but composure when inappropriate’. He’s going to follow the advice, though here comes the second reason for his nervousness. Monty didn’t know what specifically his lawyer was going to do, she just said to trust her. The woman was competent, that’s for sure. He even heard that she’s a top lawyer. But still, her reticence about the defense strategy and tactic made him uneasy when so much was at stake.

He rebuked himself for worrying on the false premise. Even if Ms. Williams succeeds in dropping the charge of murder, the Latino anyway remains under arrest until the trial or a plea deal offered by DA’s Office. There is no way he can pay even a tenth of 100,000$ bail required by the schedule, and bail bondsman refused to provide any surety without a cosigner. The bottom line _is_ \- there’s not so much to fight for. 

“All rise!” a bailiff announced.

The judge’s name was Mark Evans - as the nameplate indicated before - and he appeared to approach his 60s. The boy only prayed his whiteness will be compensated by him being reelected recently and moved here from LA prior to the first term. He wondered how his defender knew this, to which she answered that it’s not hard to get trial intel when only three judges were running the local judiciary.

“So, this proceeding is for the arraignment of Mr. de la Cruz. There will be two charges brought against the defendant by District Attorney-“ the judge has sharply lifted his eyes off the files and looked at the press, “which means there are two separate cases that to be heard separately after the arraignment.”

It was like he’s trying to scold them and knock the facts into their minds. No secret they tended to <strike>twist events outright</strike> get things wrong. The lawsuit against Evergreen County School District only proved it.

After that, some formalities followed, like the confirmation of identities and powers of attorneys and advising the defendant of his rights.

“So, does the defendant waive his right to hear the charges?”

“The charge, Your Honor,” the defense attorney said looking askew at the adversary.

“Excuse me?”

“Em, the Prosecution drops the charge of murder, Your Honor,” the woman representing DA said.

“May I inquire about the reason behind this?”

“Mr. de la Cruz, apparently, has an alibi, Your Honor.”

“I would say a cast-iron alibi, Your Honor,” Diana augmented. Her adversary only grimaced to that.

“--Well then,” the judge said after having both parties visually scrutinized.

_‘Shit, that was fast.’ _

Then formalities followed again, like the defendant waiving his right to hear the charge, pleading not guilty.

“I need to ask Mr. de la Cruz some questions so that I can set the bail amount.”

_‘As futile as it gets.’ _Monty sighed.

“Where do you live?”

“37 Pine St., Crestmont, Evergreen County, California, Your Honor.”

“Do you have family in Evergreen County?”

“Yes.” He wanted to say no, but his attorney was quick enough to whisper another answer. 

“Do you have work?”

“No, Your Honor.”

"Have you ever been arrested before?"

“No, Your Honor.”

"Your bail is set at $105,000. You can provide a bail bond or, in lieu of it, a cash deposit or property bond. If you fail to appear at the hearing of your case in court, the bond or the cash deposit will be forfeited, and a warrant will be issued for your arrest."

“Your Honor, I ask you to reconsider the amount given the lacking weight of the evidence. In addition, Mr. de la Cruz doesn’t have such amount of money or property, neither a bail bondsman has agreed to provide surety.”

“Even with a cosigner?”

“The defendant’s father rejected him, his brother is unavailable.”

The Latino wanted to sink through the floor, so he can escape the judge’s gaze.

“--You see, Mrs. Williams, _he has_ the eyes of a tormented person, and I really would like to help him- But there is nothing I can do. Even if I could reduce it, you know well that a bondsman would decline to pledge even half of it. And since you have touched the evidence subject – although it is usually the subject of preliminary hearing – I fully agree there isn’t enough evidence _yet_ to convict him. But enough to constitute the probable cause. And we’ve got plenty of bad character evidence which is, in general, not admissible for trial, but _it is_ for pre-trial arrest.”

“Yes, Your Honor,” as the judge’s reasoning was strong she decided not to contest it further.

“Since there is only one case, _I_ will see the defendant in this court in a month. Thank you all.”

The judge gaveled the hearing to end. Diana looked directly at her client.

“Keep your head up, Montgomery. I will bargain with DA,” she gave him shoulder pat.

“What are the prospects?”

“Maybe 2 years.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Williams- for everything you’re doing. That’s a lot, really-- I heard usually lawyers do not take criminal pro bono cases with _any _complexity.”

While Monty was immensely grateful, he was also discontent with the fact that he didn’t understand the logic behind her efforts. He tried to dismiss the gut feeling but couldn’t help wondering.

“Usually they do not.”

Though unwritten, _the dot_ was clearer than ever. Instead, the lawyer decided to give him a piece of non-legal advice since she wasn’t confident in what her son would decide to do.

“Do take care of yourself. Even without- assistance you can make yourself whole. Without being whole you are not resilient. You can try to compensate for it by anger and hatred, but they are bad substitutes. At the end of the day, your further life will be determined primarily by your own choices and actions.”

“Em, I don’t understand entirely what you are saying, Mrs. Williams.”

“But you do partially, that’s enough for the start. Is there anything you want from me?”

“--No, Miss.”

“See you later then.”

15 minutes later de la Cruz was escorted to the court’s back door in order to transport him back to jail. Of course, an officer deemed his walk too slow and pushed the arrestee hard enough for him to land on the floor, which caused laughter from two other ‘lawmen’.

“Hey! What the hell you are doing?!” the policemen’s giggling was aborted by someone.

“What do you need, boy? Police at work,” despite fazing for a second, the escorts played cool using authority card.

It was unsettling that Monty hasn’t noticed him running toward and shouting. But right now, he had cops to humble.

“I need you to stop acting under color of law and release him.”

_‘This voice-- Is it-?”_

“What- Release? Are you nuts?”

Monty turned his head toward the battling voices.

_‘No way.’_

“I dare you to tell that to judge,” Winston handed over the confirming paper.

“Bail? Him?- Are you his-“

“That’s none of your business. Release him now or the PR hell will break loose. You know, people are thirsty for officials’ blood right now,” the bailor hasn’t bothered to point to surveillance cameras, he just wanted to get over their bullshit. He could make an example of them, but that wouldn’t do good to the person he came for. There is a bargain yet to strike, after all.

“--Do it,” after a short staredown the officer ordered his colleague, who helped the stunned no-more-arrestee to get up off his knees and uncuffed him.

The cops left, and Monty stared at his bailor. He opened and closed mouth a couple of times to say something but each attempt ended in him looking down.

“Hey,” Williams decided to start.

“-You came.” Fuck, he loved the accused’s husky voice.

“Yeah.” Are they heading for an Oscar?

“-Why?”

“Why?” as for Winston, the _way _the question has been asked seemed devaluing his efforts. His impulse was to scold him, to show that _he_ is the one who should be complaining and questioning. “What should I have done? Abandon you? Why haven’t you told me sooner? Why haven’t called me from jail? And how-”

“I’m a monster, Winston! A monster!”

Though shocking and full of pain and self-hatred, the sheer loudness of his lover’s words made him come back to his senses. Williams looked around. Luckily, they were in the secluded area, only a bailiff was eyeing the couple at a fair distance. But better safe than sorry he decided. As he returned his view to Monty, the image of him crying stabbed Winston’s heart.

“You should leave me! Forget!”

Fuck, he couldn’t help but approach and wipe away his lover’s tears. As far as Winston understood, the Latinx was always a softie. He just never had a chance to show that. It’s really difficult to do so when you’re expected to be the other way around by everyone: society, school, ‘friends’, his abusive father and late Bryce Walker as his only backer.

Monty tried to push him away but, hey, Winston wasn’t doing wrestling for nothing.

“Look at me!” Again, the former arrestee stubbornly refused. All that looking away and self-isolation were making him sick, so he forced – calling it ‘cupping’ would insult everything tender in this world – Monty’s face in his direction holding it in his hands. “Look at me!” At last, they have managed to make decent eye contact. “I don’t see- a monster in you. Even if you did bad things, that doesn’t mean you deserved to be framed for murder or mistreated or not having a chance to repent.” His lover stopped physical resistance and let his cheeks to be stroked. And the bailor sensed Monty’s body quivering.

“Win, I- I- I really did-” as the Latinx was trying to summon the words his eyes became coated with tears again.

Why is that so hard to witness a person weeping? Winston’s emotions compelled the host to comfort his lover better. Winston’s mind screamed to shut him up from spilling confessions. However, the two normally conflicting voices unexpectedly pulled off the synergy. The synergy in the form of a kiss. Banal but effective.

“Stop. We’ll talk later, Monty. I don’t have a single wish to stay here any longer, neither want you to give a bargaining chip to DA’s office. Come with me.”

“Where? I have nowhere to go and my clothes are at the jail.”

“To my place, of course! And I will give you mine.”

“If your parents know, they won’t let me-“

“Monty, my parents do know. And you saw my mother like half an hour ago.”

“--Why she hasn’t told me then? She just hates that a felon will have affairs with her son.”

“Hey, it’s just kinda her style. Cannot say that she was delighted of the idea, but she hasn’t totally objected either.” At least he thought that they worked this out. If not, he was ready to confront his parents one more time.

**Yesterday, after Winston's excused leave from school.   
The Williams’ house. **

“You must have really disliked him to be ready to give up on our deal,” he nervously chuckled. Of course, she would obstruct his-- what? Aspirations? Shit, he hasn’t still sorted out his attitude to Monty.

“He hasn’t seemed repugnant or scary to me. I’d say _he_ felt scared,” she sighed as Winston's tone indicated that her plan to make him hostile toward Monty has failed. “I just- wouldn’t choose you such a partner. He got too many problems: starting with psyche and concluding with criminal record, with a high probability of recidivism, and sexual offense record with no good job prospects.”

“Mom, our deal doesn’t involve me pledging my love and loyalty to Montgomery. And I won’t do this, not until he serves his time.”

“Maybe you won’t. But we both know that you might do this after.”

“I don’t think so.”

“People, even kind as you, do not sacrifice their desired profession out of pure compassion unless they’re brainwashed. Even you cannot deny that compassion alone isn’t sufficient. You fell for him, son.”

“I’m not! I clearly understand he’s troublesome. It’s just--”

“That you’re losing sleep knowing he’s in jail, lonely and threatened?”

“--”

“You’re smart and your mind may understand the magnitude of problems that follow in his wake. But does your body? I don’t think you control your emotions and you might be trapped in a toxic relationship.”

“Augh, mom, I’m introduced to this concept.”

“Knowing something doesn’t mean understanding or, even more so, experiencing it.”

“Oh, in case you have _missed_ something: I was going to counselors since you both left me all to myself. And yeah, I fell for guys in closet, straight guys, some of them manipulated me, were constantly hurting me. Maybe I’m still a stupid teenager, but I know some things. And I know how to self-reflect, set limits, that’s what I’ve learned with the help of Dr. Brozek. And that’s what Monty couldn’t do even _once_ in his life. He needs help.”

“And what are the red lines in your relationship would be?”

“Well, physical abuse- cheating-“

“That’s a low bar,” she dismissed.

“Mom, it depends on _my_ partner and I will handle that _myself_.”

“While saying those red lines you were thinking about what your relationship with Monty would be like. Just admit it!” Diana was resolved and went offensive.

“Okay! I think about him! But stop sitting in judgment of my feelings-“

“These feelings are dangerous, again, you’ll get burnt, if not worse! He _will_ end up in a gang and drag you down!”

“You-“

“Maybe we would just sit down?” Winston could see his mother nearly jumping for the knives when, all of a sudden, dad’s throaty voice intervened in their exponentially heating exchange. "And talk it through like adults?


	4. What I see

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monty and Win have the talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a freakishly long delay. I'm still dealing with mild depression and financial hardship but, yeah, the trailer kicked me in the butt to finally finish this chapter. Also, the next update is underway too so I should make it (meaning 5th chapter) before the new season release. Comments and kudos are much appreciated as always.

Once again, Monty was in that magnificent and powerful car, but even the stark difference between its luxuriousness and the jail facilities couldn’t muffle other thoughts for long. He itched to ask why Winston did what he did. Hell, he wasn’t exactly sure _what_ the boy did. Was it pity? Was it- lust? Something more- complicated?

But they were already on the move and he didn’t want to dilute Winston’s attention from the road and the radio. The latter, judging by how promptly it was turned on, indicated the lack of desire to talk about anything on the part of the driver. So he just asked how much the road will take and decided to take a nap after receiving the answer.

As much as he had been exhausted by being in the mode of constant vigilance the sleep never came, due to never-ceasing mental speculation over recent events. But at least his body has relaxed. It certainly was more relaxed than it had been in the county jail. Shit, he cringed remembering still vivid threats of murder and all sorts of taunts.

Not that he didn’t deserve to die. He wants to die. Monty just never wanted to be beaten to death. He _yearned_ to escape being subjected to violence for his whole life. And here he stands, a bully _and_ a rapist. No doubt, he received the divine, karmic or whatever slap for his foolishness and immorality. Not that he considered alternatives back then, he was capable to see only so many of the paths: that of a bully and that of a victim. The boy imagined no other ways available to him and toxic friendship with Bryce only reinforced that belief.

And now because of his own stupidity and deeds, largely deriving from it, he has no fucking future. Monty noted to himself to google what happens to a bail deposit if a defendant commits suicide. If it’s not to be forfeited, then so be it.

They reached the Williams’ mansion and he followed Winston to his room. Well, not the basement so far, that was the good news. Not that he really thought the other boy could do such a thing but, you know, paranoid thoughts can reach even the best of us and Monty certainly wasn’t one of them.

And then de la Cruz stood – daring not to sit – in the middle of the all-too-familiar bedroom.

“First off, sorry that I couldn’t make it to the appointment yesterday, there was a lot of- fuss.”

“The appointment?”

“Yeah, it was arranged that I would visit you yesterday.” The puzzled look on Monty’s face hasn’t cleared. “You didn’t know? The guards haven’t told you?”

“No- but it’s okay though, you didn’t have to.”

“Still, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, really.”

“Thanks. Ah, I’d like to- discuss things. Is it okay with you?” Williams’ posture has calmed.

“Go ahead.” What else could Montgomery say? ‘Please, don’t make me verbally admit what an atrocious creature I am’?

“Take a seat?” The Latino chose the chair at the neutral suggestion even though one part of him craved to settle on the bed just by Win which was almost suicidal considering the topic of the discussion.

He dreaded this ‘Q&A session’ all the road and tried to come up with the right words to disclose the picture smoothly but fully, however ugly it was. Little did he know that his bailor would go straight for the jugular.

“What you felt after you violated barely conscious Tyler with a mop stick?”

And for a moment Montgomery was a deer caught in the headlights.

Of course, Winston had read the police report. Or his mother told him. Doesn’t matter now. 

He just sat there being eyed almost researchingly, like a piece of glass with a deviant, irregular structure that twists the light in peculiar ways. As much as he enjoyed seeing those drop-dead gorgeous eyes again, soon the scrutiny they emanated - though not a visible contempt or any other displeasure – fisted his heart even more, causing his jaws to clench, putting his ears on fire of shame, and made studying the fibers of the monotone carpet so much more interesting.

“-I --I felt brief satisfaction, as I recall,” Monty admitted after lifting the mental barriers put by his sick brain to suppress the voice of conscience.

“You were satisfied with what?” He couldn’t decipher Winston’s tone. It was kind of neutral still, but the hints of disgust were creeping in, it seemed. He looked up at the bailor by impulse but after barely making eye contact averted his own down again.

“-With the notion that there is someone worse off, that I could do something consequential- that I still have some sort of control- Yeah, in very twisted ways.” He tried to blink away the tears and steady his breathing. “But if you ask about the trigger-- Tyler was just the scapegoat for my anger.” But however hard he tried the drops have escaped and his voice has gone hoarse. “And the most damning thing is that I blocked all the guilt that came after-- refused to put myself in his shoes until I was forced to- I justified it with stupid excuses, jokes- jocky boasting and so on.” And Monty, as much as he suppressed it, couldn’t reasonably hide his sobbing anymore.

“And what do you feel about it now?” After what felt like a minute Winston asked.

And the Latino combusted inside. Because he knew he would fail at expressing his regret. He wanted to throw or punch something but it seems he was kind of oversaturated with being a criminal, so shouting will have to do.

“The fuck, Winston?! I despise myself! I don't want to go out ever again! And it turns my stomach when I remember the crime scene! How else can I feel?!” Then he almost whispered to himself, "Now that I know how bad is it to be bullied-- I was beaten by my father, harshly so, you know this. But I was never targeted by a hostile company of men.” His efforts to calm down were visible and soon after he continued. “I know, I was always a dickhead. But, shit, I never saw myself committing rape. I just- It was like I couldn’t think at all. Like-“ He groaned at the latency of the self-analysis and buried his face in the hands. “I felt like everything was crumbling and I took it out on the most defenseless person I knew. Whatever reasonable part of me that was there screamed to stop but I was already off the leash. Like I became someone else-”

“You want to say that you might have bipolar disorder or something like that?c

“That’s shenanigans! I just-“ He sighed and rubbed his face “-I don’t know -I’m not trying to pass the buck- You asked and I’m just being honest with you. I think it's clear from what I said earlier that I can be both evil _and_ sick. I’m not worth your efforts, man.”

Such- _findings_ were unsettling for Winston. But he distrusted both the competency and genuineness of the analyst.

“You don’t have the qualifications to be the judge of that. A simple impulse-control disorder does not make you a truly sick person, a psycho, or something.”

“Win, I-! I raped a person! Who does that in 2019?!”

“I don’t have statistics on that but judging by mom’s client base there are plenty.”

“So you’re saying I should look up to other sex offenders?” Monty chuckled scornfully. “Do you _hear_ yourself?!”

And his bailor hasn’t dropped a word. First the Latinx was glad to the silence and to the thought that he came to the same conclusion. But after some seconds it was only ever-increasing tension with Williams flinching not a bit until Montgomery couldn’t.

“What? Why you give me the look?”

“What kind of look?”

“Kind of patronizing- pitying- contemptuous at the same time-- I don’t know. You have been wearing this look since the start of the conversation.” The last words came out much sulkier than he wanted them to.

Winston sighed breaking, at last, the stoic posture and letting his face soften. He stood up from the bed, sat on the desk chair right next to Monty, and laid his own hand on the Latino's giving it a light squeeze. “Sorry that me masking my curiosity gave you the impression, but I certainly wasn’t feeling contempt towards you- it’s just that the whole thing is- complex- _and_ I guess I _like _it when it’s complex?” The Hillcrest student gestured to de la Cruz teasingly and the latter felt his cheeks heating from the questionable compliment and fondness(?) in the former boy’s expression.

“Win, you don’t know what you are doing. You shouldn’t-”

“Shouldn’t what? Be compassionate? Care for you?” The boy’s tone is an irritated no-nonsense.

Monty, in turn, was stunned. Of curse, he was, it’s his first basically confession from a guy. But then, surprisingly for himself, he collected himself swiftly and refused to be swayed.

“Are you seriously okay with what I’ve done?”

“Of course not, I’m just trying to sort this out.”

“There is nothing to sort out! I sicken you, I’m a lost cause and therefore you must show me the door and forget me.”

“You do not, you are not, and I will not. And that’s very rude to speak in such a way to your bailor after what? An hour he’s got you out.”

“Look, I’m really grateful for probably saving me from murder, but I’m not your charity case, and dealing with me will give you only trouble.”

“Cut that bullshit line, it is so overused it only annoys me. And what kind of trouble it will bring?”

“Em, lots of trouble.”

“What _kind_ of? Are you entangled in mafia affairs?”

“Er, yeah, I am.”

“Your ability to lie is surprisingly atrocious for someone who managed to stay in the closet for so long.”

“Winston, I--” He groaned at the loss of arguments and seeing that all his efforts to scare away the angel that is Winston for him were a fruitless errand.

The angel in question cupped his right cheek and secured their eye contact surely done with Monty looking away under _a hint_ of pressure.

“What I see is a victim of circumstances who then turned an aggressor. Confused by inexperience, misguided by his peers, tortured by his own father, crippled by poverty and failed by the education system and society as the whole. You committed an unspeakable act, inflicted great harm on an overall innocent person and you regret it. You want to pay for and rectify it as much as you can. And there is a great striving in you for the second chance, for growth and happiness, not for doubling down on going rampant. Are you going to argue with any of these points?” The Latino averted his eyes down and remained silent. “And I am not going to abandon my lover with the given circumstances.” His eyes widened but Williams pressed on. “Now, tell me looking in the eyes that you in fact do not want me by your side. Say it and then push me aside, beat the shit out of me, or whatever.”

And, of course, Montgomery couldn’t. Not just because it was his only chance for the effective legal defense as he didn’t know what his free attorney will do if he rejects her son. But because there was a glimmer of hope for- happiness. However short. Monty would never admit _that_ and impose on Winston. But he would accept the chance when offered and very insistently so.

“And then what, Win?” The last chance for his lover to escape from the loser of a partner that he is. “You sound like you want to commit to the long-standing relationship with me, of all people. _Your_ mother said that I would get 2 years in jail _at best_. And afterwards what am I? A felon with a sex offence record. I’m a wreck, you understand that.”

But Winston only laughed. “Such fatalism for a jock who just recently was so full of himself.” The scowl on Montgomery’s face was too cute not to stroke his cheek. “The ink is not dry yet, Monty.”

“What do you mean?”

“We concocted a plan to reduce your offence, not as badass as I thought it would be but “workable” still.”

“What? How is that?!” The Latino was incredulous, but the other guy hushed him with a kiss yet again.

“We'll speak about that with my mother as she is your attorney, not me. Now get showered, I'll bring you a snack and then we’ll cuddle until you sleep.”

“But-”

“Seriously, these dark circles are _horrible_ and they must be outlawed on your face.”

And he obliged. Winston is his bailor, after all, isn’t he supposed to be a good boy for him now?

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are really appreciated as they can keep me writing on weekends.


End file.
